Han
by Kahlann
Summary: AU: when he was six, Harry left the Dursley's home. He's lived on his own ever since.
1. Prelude

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognise is J.K.Rowling's property.

**Prelude **

Harry Potter, six years old, awoke with a start. Aunt Petunia was punching his cupboard's door violently, telling him if he didn't got up his lazy self and made a great breakfast for Dudley's birthday, he would not be allowed to eat.

His stomach complaining at the thought, he put up his glasses and did quickly as he was said. Carefully avoiding to get burned (he was still a little too small and couldn't quite see what he was doing) he managed to make some good-looking eggs and bacon. He then served Dudley, his uncle and aunt, and got a little piece to himself, getting a disapproving look from Aunt Petunia.

But she said nothing, getting all Dudley's presents together.

With a wide smile, he slowly opened them all, then he counted.

"That's ten, isn't it mum? he asked"

"No, son, there are fourteen. Are you pleased?"

"Yes, fourteen is good mummy. But… where's my computer?"

"A computer, dear?"

"Yes! I told you I _wanted_ one. And you didn't got me any! "

" I'm sorry, son, Vernon replied anxiously. You know this client I lost because of this.. _freak?_ Well, because of that my society isn't very wealthy right now and we couldn't afford to get you a computer yet… maybe next year?"

"So I have to pay for _his abnormality_? Dudley replied angrily, staring at Harry. No! I want a computer, and I want it NOW!"

Just as he screamed the last word, the entire kitchen seemed to explode, and in the meantime, something appeared. A big, enormous wrapped present lying on the floor.

Vernon Dursley stared blankly as his _son_ let out a happy cheer and jumped to open up his present, discovering a last-generation computer. Then, he looked at his nephew who seemed bloody terrified, wide-eyed. Then, reality stroke him hard.

His nephew wasn't the only freak in the house.


	2. Lost

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognise is J.K.Rowling's property.

**Chapter one: lost**

And he knew how to deal with freaks.

Grapping his son's arm hard, he threw the terrified child in the cupboard under the stairs and left the house without a word. One minute later, Petunia heard his car leaving.

She knew she had to act quickly, before he returned. The look on her husband's eyes when he stared at their son had been unmistakable. That was the look he usually reserved for Potter. A look of utterly disgust and loathing. A hating glare.

She had nothing against the way Vernon dealt with Harry. The boy was nothing but a nuisance and he got what he deserved. But her son? Her unique child? She couldn't let Vernon hurt her Duddyckins.

So she left. It was an impulsive decision, but she knew it to be a good one. As soon as the car's sound faded away, she stood, made hurriedly her way to her bedroom and began to pack as much as possible, leaving a lost Harry in the kitchen. Then, she packed a few things for Dudley as well, took him, and left without a word.

A few minutes later, changing her mind, she went back to the house and wrote a note for her husband to find. Then, she turned to Harry and said:

"I know I agreed to take care of you but I can't. Dudley and I are leaving because I can't stand Vernon hurting him. If you have any brain at all you won't wait for your uncle to come back and put it all on you. Bye."

Little Harry didn't know what to do. He didn't understand what had just happen. Ten minutes ago, Dudley was just opening presents, and then everything went weird. But it hadn't been his fault at all, this time.

Dudley wanted a computer and a new one just appeared from nowhere. And his uncle got angry. At Dudley. This had never happened before. And Vernon had throw Dudley in _his cupboard_. Things just didn't make any sense.

The Dursleys had always _loved_ anything Dudley did. Anything he said or did was just perfect for them. Now that Dudley was gone, and Petunia too, perhaps uncle Vernon would love him, Harry? Yes! Now that his cousin was gone surely he could have his bedroom? Perhaps not the first, but how about the second? Uncle Vernon wasn't so bad when he wasn't angry… surely now that he was his only family he would love him like a son?

Holding this thought, he began to tidy up the kitchen (he knew how much his uncle despised the mess). By the time he finished to bring the presents Dudley left because they were too heavy to his second bedroom, he heard a car parking on the alley. The kitchen was clean, and only the computer stayed on the floor (it was too heavy for him to carry).

Proud of his work and sure to receive all his uncle's praise now that he was the only son of the house, he stood still in the middle of the kitchen.

Seconds later, his drunk uncle came in, saw him and froze. Obviously, he didn't expect Harry to be here. Pushing the boy impatiently out of the way, he took notice of the note left by Petunia, explaining she left with Dudley and that he wasn't to see them anymore.

Then, everything went red. Anger blinded him. Anger for Petunia, who dared leave him, anger for the neighbours who were already gossiping about her leaving him, anger at Dudley for being a freak as well, and most of all, anger at his stupid nephew who stood just before him.

Everything was that brat's fault. He was the freak, and this freakiness must be contagious because Dudley caught it.

Nothing would go as planned. Harry understood it as soon as he saw his uncle's eyes glowing with anger, just like the time when his hair had grown overnight. In ten thousands times worse. He barely registered a sharp pain in his arm as his uncle grabbed it and shove him into the wall, then he lost consciousness.

Little Harry awoke some time later. Pain. Pain was everywhere in his body. His head hurt, as did his ribs, his back, and most of all, his right arm. He remembered the fury in his uncle's eyes, and absent-mindedly wondered how he was still alive.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, and discovered that last night wasn't one of his nightmares.

The kitchen was a mess. Some chairs lay broken, the table was upside-down… but most of all, there was dark red paint everywhere. Traces on the fridge, and a lot on the floor. Suddenly he coughed and he barely noticed the new trace forming on the floor as his eyes were absorbed by a big snoring form besides him.

His uncle was sleeping. So that was why he didn't kill him. He had been too drunk and collapsed before doing it.

Painfully aware that his uncle was likely to finish his task as soon as he awoke, the boy did his best to hold a cry as he stood up. Slowly, holding his injured ribs tightly, he went to his cupboard and took his old blanket. He didn't dare go upstairs (and frankly, he didn't really want to risk the stairs in his state) where he could have taken something more useful.

A little plan was forming in his mind. He would leave his uncle, just like his aunt has done in the morning. He had no idea where he would go, but anywhere had to be better than here.

And nobody would ever find him. He knew, or rather he feared, that if anyone found him they would send him back here, or with his aunt. Or worse, according to uncle Vernon, to the orphanage. But he wouldn't let anyone find him! He would be on his own and nobody would never ever hurt him again, he swore it to himself.

He would never ever allow himself to hope love or care from the adults again. His uncle, his family, wanted to kill him because of something Dudley and aunt Petunia did. He would never trust anyone with his care anymore. If he wanted to live, he had to take care of himself…

Holding these thoughts, he bravely opened the door and, without looking behind, he walked away in the twilight.

Little Harry was tired. He had half-walked, half-limped all night, without any precise destination in mind. He just wanted to go as far away from Vernon as possible. The numbness that progressively reached him prevented the pain to be unbearable, so he welcomed it gratefully.

He knew that if he didn't want to be found and brought back to Privet Drive or to the orphanage he would have to hide before sunset. He was way too noticeable. He didn't know how he exactly looked like, but he could see some blood on his clothes and he didn't have any others. Besides, he wanted to sleep, or collapse.

Therefore, he almost passed out from relief when he saw the station. He remembered Aunt Petunia saying once that all the no-homers slept there at night because the trains' blankets were nice and they weren't locked.

He was much too small to make it to the door's handle, but there was one open near the end. Relieved he climbed the two stairs and lied on the bottom one. He pulled tightly his blanket around his shoulders and drifted to a healing sleep.

Mrs Arabella Figg was on her way to buy cat's food when she saw a police vehicle parked in the alleyway of number 4, Privet Drive. She usually didn't pay much attention to these things (in fact she didn't pay attention to anything besides her beloved kittens) but she was supposed to keep an eye on the boy who lived there for her old friend Albus Dumbledore. Sighing and thinking that her cats would have to wait their food a little longer, she went there and asked to one of the policemen:

"What happened here?"

" It was really awful, answered the young man. Looks like this man (he pointed a very numb-looking Vernon Dursley who was being taken between two policemen to the car) harmed severely his young nephew because he blamed him of his wife's departure. There was blood everywhere. I'm surprised we didn't found the boy's corpse. Maybe we'll find it lying somewhere near in the next couple of days..."

Figg didn't even wait for the man to finish his ramble sentence. She turned away in a hurry and locked herself in her home, then tossed some strange powder into the hearth and called "Albus Dumbledore's office".

Seconds later, an old man's head could be seen in the hearth, his long beard caressing the floor. He said brightly:

"Arabella! How are you my dear ! It's been an awfully long time since…"

"Albus, stop babbling and come here right now! I didn't call you to talk about sorbet lemons."

Immediately, the man's face turned serious and a minute later he was standing next to her.

"Now Arabella please tell me what happened."

"Albus, there are policemen - muggles Aurors if you want - all over your boy's house. They said his uncle harmed or even killed him, even though they didn't found a body yet. Apparently it all happened because of Petunia's decision to leave her husband. Albus, they said there was _blood all over the place!_ "

"Now calm down Arabella. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think. Muggles always seem to overestimate the situation. I'm certain Harry is fine. Come with me, we'll go and see by ourselves."

He offered her his arm gallantly and they headed towards number 4.

As it turned out, Harry wasn't fine at all. He had managed to sleep soundly until midday, then the hunger awoke him. He hadn't eaten anything since the earlier day's breakfast and had walked a lot. Of course, it wasn't the first time he'd have to go on for days without food, but his body still wasn't really accustomed to it since it didn't happen _that_ often.

However, his previous injuries seemed less hurtful, as if the rest had somehow helped them heal. His arm and chest still hurt, but not unbearably so.

Sighing, he slowly got up, leaving the train's blanket with reluctance, as he really didn't know where to go next. He obviously had to find something to eat, but where? He didn't have any money, and he really didn't fancy to beg for money on the street. After all, his aunt and uncle who had been supposed to take care of him had made it quite clear that anyone with half a mind wouldn't want to give anything to a freak.

Before leaving the train, he went to the toilets to drink a little water. Then, he grabbed his blanket and left.

As he did, he immediately noticed that he wasn't in Surrey anymore. The train! The train had moved while he was asleep! He could be anywhere. He had to find out where he was. He then noticed that he didn't have his glasses. He was sure he had taken them when he left Privet Drive, so perhaps they were still somewhere near the couch where he slept?

He didn't find them there, so he began to search all the train, thinking they could have moved because of the train's movements. As he searched, he found a forgotten bag. He took it after a little hesitation. He knew it was bad to go through someone else's things, and even worse to steal… but he really needed new clothes or he would be too noticeable. Besides, he couldn't be sure that the bag's owner would return to retrieve his propriety, so he could at least make it of use.

Nervously, he opened it, and found some clothes (much too big for him but not worse that his previous ones), photos and some money. Not much, but enough to get something to eat for some days. He smiled to himself at the idea: he could get whatever he wanted to eat! Even Dudley's favourite sweets!

Packing the whole thing, he put on new clothes, packed his old ones and his blanket in the bag, took it and left.

With his excitement, he had forgotten about his glasses. Anyway, they were broken after his uncle's beating, so there wasn't any point in wearing them. Besides, nobody would recognise him without them!

Dumbledore entered the Dursleys' kitchen after having gently charmed the policemen so that they wouldn't notice them, and immediately understood why they thought the boy had been killed.

So much blood. And Arabella had told him that Harry was quite small for his age… he really should be in a bad shape. Hell. If it wasn't for the prophecy, which stated clearly that only Voldemort could kill Harry, he would have thought him dead himself after seeing this.

He had to find him. Fast. He would obviously need to be healed. And even if it wasn't the case, it still wouldn't do to have the Boy-Who-Lived living on the streets.

If only he had thought twice about leaving him here, as Minerva had advised him. He swore to himself that Harry would never have to stay here anymore. Even if they found his aunt and cousin, who had been stupid enough to leave him there. Stupid woman! The blood protection wouldn't even work if she wasn't in the house. Even if his uncle had accepted him, he would have been much too vulnerable.

Just like now. He shivered at the thought of the little boy left to himself, without any protection. If a Death Eater found him now, prophecy or not…

He had to find him, and fast. He turned to Arabella.

"I want you to keep an eye on the neighbourhood in the next few weeks. It is possible that Harry didn't go very far. In fact, it is almost certain, looking at this… he shouldn't be in any state to go very far. "

"What are you gonna do Albus?"

"Find him, of course. Good day!"

He apparated next to Hogwarts' grounds and walked fast to the castle. There, he hurried in his office. He had letters to write. Before it was too late…

It was the first Order meeting in nearly five years. Then, the secret organization's goal was to stop Voldemort. It was no wonder everyone at the table was looking at Dumbledore in apprehension.

"Albus, what is this meeting for? Does it mean Riddle has come back? Asked Alastor Moody, his magical eye searching the room as if the Dark Lord himself was there, hidden under an invisibly cloak.

"No, no, he isn't."

Everyone sighed, relieved

"Then why this meeting?" Wondered aloud Mr Weasley.

"It's about Harry, isn't it?" asked Remus.

"How do you know?"

"Muggle papers."

"Oh. Already? they're quick. This is bad. If an ex Death Eater came in possession of one…"

"Albus, I do not think we have to worry about Lucius reading _Muggle_ newspapers over breakfast, or any of the others." Answered Severus Snape at his left.

"Right."

"What is _this _about? What happened to the poor child?" Asked Molly Weasley.

"We don't really know yet. Rumours said his uncle killed him. I do not think it likely. But I've seen the kitchen where it happened, and it didn't look good. The boy was injured when he left, at the very least. That's why I need you all. We need to locate him."

"His _uncle?_ Merlin, Albus, I _told you _not to let him there! These people are monsters!" Claimed Minerva MacGonagall.

"And I really should have listened to you. I am deeply sorry. But this won't help him."

"Albus, are you saying that your bloody six-year-old saviour is out there totally defenceless, and perhaps even half-dead and alone?"

"Yes, Severus, I'm afraid that's exactly what I'm saying. And I need all of you to help me."

"Albus, as much as I hate to be the one to ask, how can you be so sure he's alive? What if he's dead already?"

"The prophecy, Remus. It can be quite cryptic, but it clearly says "_one must die at the hand of the other" _and as far as I know, Vernon Dursley doesn't have Voldemort's hands, so he couldn't kill Harry."

"If you say so…"

"I do."

"…"

**"Severus**, I need you to quiz your old accountancies, see if they know anything and inform me the minute they learn that Harry is missing.

"**Remus** and **Minerva**, while the trace is fresh I want you to discreetly try to follow Harry's scent. **Minerva**, you can also try to ask the neighbour's cat.

"**Alastor **and **Arthur,** I want you two to do the same as Severus with the Ministry. Try to know of any mention of magic inside Surrey too. We need to know what they know, when and how.

"**Molly, **do you still have that knitting club? Good. Then ask the old ladies if they know anything.

"We will all meet again in a week's time, to share any information we'll have managed to gather by then. Good luck!"

With that clear dismissal, the meeting ended, the first of a very long line…

Oblivious to all that, a delighted Harry was staring at the seemingly endless choice of sweets in a little supermarket. _Choice._ That was new for him. He could choose what to eat, and when, and how often, and how many! Well, as long as he found money anyway…

Suddenly, a voice behind him startled him from his dream-like situation.

"Hello, little one, can I help you?" said a young red-haired woman with a smile.

"I wanna buy sweets!" he cried happily, then quickly hide his mouth with one hand, ashamed as his demand. Uncle Vernon had beaten him for much less. But Vernon was gone, he would never ever see him again, and this woman seemed nice enough.

"Really? She answered, her smile growing wide, showing her white teeth. What kind do you like?"

Then, seeing his somewhat lost expression, she added:

"These are my favourites."

She showed him a kind that he had never seen Dudley eat before. Smiling his thanks, he took one pack of them and paid. Without even waiting to be fully out of the shop, he began eating, and sighed.

This was heaven.


	3. Free

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognise is J.K.Rowling's property.

**Chapter two: free**

Albus Dumbledore sat on his office, thinking. It had been two months since Harry Potter had disappeared. Neither Muggle police nor Aurors had found any evidence of where he might be, and he was unofficially believed dead in both the muggle and the wizarding world.

Albus was in disgrace, thanks to Rita Skeeter who had revealed to everyone that it was his choice to leave little Harry in the _"care of his unsuitable guardians"_.

Some even discussed his ability as a Headmaster, as he _"had proven he shouldn't be left with children in his care". _

Thankfully, nearly everyone still thought it was just _"a regrettable mistake that only shows he's human". _

Still, Minerva hold a grudge against him ever since, and rightfully so. If only he had listened to her… checked on the boy…

But no, he had to trust human nature so much that he disregarded the idea almost at once. Granted, the Dursleys might not have liked wizardkind very much, but surely they would _never_ take it on a child!

How wrong he had been … and now he didn't know where Harry was. Worse, the boy might hate him too once he learned that he was the one to place him there. And according to the prophecy, the boy was Voldemort's equal. If he hated him, he might turn to the other side…

But no, he wouldn't think about it just yet. The boy was just six, and he already made him be a powerful evil wizard!

There was time. Time for Harry to forgive, to learn, to trust, to love, even, if he still could, and if only they could find him now Albus swore to himself that he would find a suitable guardian. Perhaps Severus or Minerva? Or maybe the Weasleys? After all, they already had seven children, what would be one more?

Yes, he would think of something. Now, all he had to do was find the boy.

The fact was, Harry, or Han as he called himself now, didn't want to be found. He was perfectly, well, happy wasn't really the word, but at least perfectly content, with his new life.

He had travelled again and again by train, always hidden, to be sure he wasn't followed, and to complicate the unlikely search. Yes, unlikely, because he really didn't think anyone would research for him. After all, who cared what happened to a freak? And why would they search for him?

Even if _they _did find him, where could he go? Surely not to his uncle. And his aunt and cousin had left. Did they want to make him go to an orphanage? He was better off in the streets, thank you very much.

In fact, the thought that he might be searched for wouldn't even have crossed his mind if he hadn't seen his own face in a milk's bottle once, along with words he still couldn't read, but understood well enough, for having seen the same under missing people before.

It had shocked him so much that he had stared at the little picture long enough for the shopkeeper to become worried and ask him what was wrong. Harry was relieved to see that the man hadn't recognised him, but it wasn't that strange. He had changed a lot since the day he left.

He was less thin, now that he could eat whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He stole a lot, and even if he still didn't like it, he knew he had to. He was becoming quite skilled at that. He found that no one was suspicious with a little child with an innocent expression in his face, and he used it a lot.

His pale skin had also became much more tanned now that he had to spend most of his time outside. And without his glasses, which he never found, he didn't look like the boy in the picture that much.

Besides, the Dursleys didn't have any picture of him, so the image was from the last school picture in which he was half hidden behind a friend of Dudley.

Without glasses he wasn't able to see very much, but it didn't really bother him since he had had them for only a couple of months. He was so used to be nearly blind that he could function well enough without.

To avoid even more suspicions, he told that he was called Han to anyone who asked him (mostly old women who thought he was lost and looked at him as if he was the cutest boy in the universe, while he innocently reached a hand to grab their wallet).

He remembered Dudley watching a movie called "The Empire Strikes Back" one time and there was a very brave and funny man called that in it, and he sort of liked the thought of having anything in common with him, even just a name.

He moved a lot because he didn't want to be found. He feared that if he stayed in the same place for too much time, then people would begin to wonder who he was, where were his parents and whether or not he had anything to do with the missing food.

Still, one thing bothered him. School started this week, and he would really have liked to enter Primary School, where you learned to write, and read, and count! It sounded exciting and he really wished he could go. But he knew schools required a name he could use officially, and he didn't have any.

Until now, since his escape, he could just steal everything he wanted. But you couldn't steal a name, could you?

He had to find a solution.

He liked his new life, really he did. He was free. No one told him what to do, or ordered him around. He didn't have to do chores. His injuries had healed fast (so fast it was pretty strange in fact) and now that he could eat three times a day, he was a healthy little boy.

But as enjoyable as freedom was, it was also very lonely.

He had never really had anyone who cared about him, he knew it. But even if it was just to insult him or order him around, his aunt and uncle and cousin had _talked _to him. Now, the only people he talked to were complete strangers. People he bought food to, people he stole money to…

Because he was always moving, he didn't have any friends. And it pained him. Before, he never really had any friends because Dudley scared them away. But now, there wasn't any Dudley anymore. If only he could go to school…

Just then, he heard two children around his age talking about it, a girl and a boy. How they hated school, how they hated homework, and how much they couldn't wait to be in holidays again…

He clenched his fists. How unfair it was. They could have what he wanted most and they were complaining about it! If only they could change places…

Then he had an idea. He remembered that when Dudley had to do something he didn't like, he would make Harry do it. What about homework? If he found a child his age who didn't like homework, perhaps he could ask if he could do them instead? This way he would learn… and maybe even get paid! Great.

Now all he had to do was talking to one of them (he didn't dare talking to both of them at once, in case they were bullies).

Harry sighed in contentment. He had managed to follow the girl at home, and talk to her. They had agreed on a plan even better than what Harry had wanted! Kathleen would teach him all she learned, and in exchange he would have to do all her homework. She had only agreed to teach him because he told her he wouldn't be able to do her homework as well if he didn't know what they learned, plus it would make her learn more effectively. They agreed to meet every evening after school.

Which posed one problem. Harry would have to stay nearby for a long time…

He actually pretty much liked the idea. Kathleen had agreed not to tell anyone about him, not even her mum, so as long as he made himself scarce, he would be safe. Plus, the town was nearby the sea, and he rather liked sleeping in the little cave he had found. This would do, for now…

The Order of the Phoenix was having an emergency meeting for the second time in two months. Really, this was almost worse than when Voldemort was on the loose. Why couldn't they live in peace now? But it was too much to ask. There would always be problems, always Dark Wizards on the loose, and from Severus Snape's point of view, the Dark Lord hadn't been any worse than Sirius Black.

Years ago, he had thought he would never have to hear about the mutt again, who had been sentenced for life. Poetic justice, he thought, since Black had never really been properly punished for trying to feed him to a werewolf.

But, a week ago, Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban.

How? He had no idea, and neither did any of the others, except maybe Lupin, who was having a private meeting with the Headmaster…

But they all knew why.

Two weeks ago, the news of Harry Potter's disappearance were on the front page of the Daily Prophet. A seven year old boy, responsible for the fall of the Dark Lord, was injured and alone in the streets. Every Death Eater in the loose was looking for him, and Sirius Black was no exception…

Now if only the Order could put their hand on the boy before he did…

Severus sighed. Only a Potter could create such a mess without even being there!

Albus Dumbledore smiled sadly, watching the children go away for the Christmas Holidays. They were all so happy at this time of year. So delighted to go home with their family to spent Christmas Eve, to get presents, to go visit their grandparents…

At this time of the year, even more than any other time, he thought about Harry, and where the hell he could be. It had been two years and a half since he had vanished, and sometimes even he doubted that he was still alive… There had been no sightings of him, or too many claims. The tracking charms weren't working, which usually meant that somebody was dead… Still, he found himself hoping. Was he celebrating Christmas as well? Was he alone on the streets, begging for money with his bright green eyes? Or had he perhaps already been found by his Godfather, who wanted nothing more than kill him as he had killed James and Lily?

A soft knock on his office's door shook him from his daydreaming. He waved lazily his hand to open the door, but wasn't prepared to see an escaped convict enter his office. Abruptly standing, he was about to cast a body-bind curse when Sirius yelled:

"Wait! Please Headmaster. Listen to me…"

"I frankly do not think you have anything to say that I want to hear."

"Please Sir. I have the proof! This is Wormtail!" he said, brandishing a stunned rat. "Believe me! I'll take Veritaserum. If you would just _listen_ to me! For Harry's sake!"

"What do you mean for Harry's sake? Do you know anything about him? Did you find him?"

"No. I didn't look for him, in fact. What use would I be for him while I am running from the Ministry? I looked for Peter, instead, and I finally found him! so now I'll be exonerated and I'll be able to take care of him if only you would listen!"

Albus looked up sharply at Peter's name. Peter? The rat? But how… He looked into Black's eyes, which were filled with despair and anger and hope… And he recalled the conversation he had had with Remus when they heard that Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban. Three unregistered Animagi, a dog, a stag and a rat…

And then he nodded. Maybe, just maybe, this could work out…

At his nod, Sirius seemed to relax, and he smiled for the first time since James' death. The smile changed his face marginally, illuminating it and throwing away the tiredness he bore, and Albus relaxed too. For he knew that even if an error had indeed been made about the man, he wasn't totally broken by his five years in Azkaban.

Minutes later, his office was filled by his most trustful allies. Remus Lupin, whose face was totally white since he had seen his former friend, and whose eyes couldn't detach themselves from the rat he was holding. Severus Snape, whom Albus had silenced with a spell when it became obvious that he couldn't refrain from making comments. Minerva MacGonagall, who looked torn between her hope that maybe Sirius would know where Harry was, and regret about what had become of one of her former favourite students. And of course Rubeus Hagrid, who had burst into tears at the sight of the man he thought responsible for the death of Harry's parents.

Albus broke the stunned silence when he asked:

"Severus? Do you have the Veritaserum I asked you? No need to speak, just hand it over" he added hastily, under the glare of his Potion teacher, who mouthed '_if I had known whom it was intended to, I wouldn't have improved the taste!'_.

"Sirius? Will you drink it?" Albus asked, chuckling.

Sirius nodded, then gulped the Potion, shooting an incredulous look at his former nemesis that seemed to say '_that's what you call improving the taste?'_ and sat on one of the chairs, still holding the rat with his trembling hands. Then began the interrogation. Albus asked the questions carefully, first testing the validity of the Potion by asking something he knew Sirius wouldn't want known by the others. He didn't take any pleasure to humiliate the man, but it was necessary.

"What is your full name?"

"Sirius Orion Black."

"When you were at school, who were you secretly in love with?"

Sirius Black gave him a betrayed look and tried to fight the potion to avoid answering, but he did nevertheless, blushing.

"Remus Lupin."

Shocked gasps answered his admission, but Albus cut them:

"He says the truth. I was aware of that when he was in seventh year. I apologise Sirius for making you telling it, but I had to ask you something you wouldn't want to answer truthfully, to test the potion."

"Now we can begin. First of all, how did you escape from Azkaban?"

"I'm an Animagus. I can transform into a dog. One evening, when they brought my meal, I sneaked out in the corridors in my dog's form. The Dementors didn't notice me because it's much more difficult for them to get animal's emotions. I was so slim I was able to pass through the bars… I left the isle and I swam… "

"Why didn't you escape before? Why did you wait five years?"

"Before I wasn't strong enough… Even in my dog's form, the Dementors managed to influence me, and I spent the first five years being tormented by the worst things on my past… In the end I didn't have any happy memory left. I was a total mess. I didn't care anymore."

"What changed?"

"An official from the Ministry came to inspect the prison as they did once a year. As usual, he gave me a copy of the Daily Prophet, knowing that I was one of the few remaining more or less sane… And I saw Harry on the cover."

"So you escaped to kill Harry now that he was defenceless?" asked Minerva, who was immediately silenced by a glare from Albus.

"NO! I would never do him any harm!"

"Then why did you escape?" intervened Albus.

"To offer him a home where he wouldn't be beaten to death. Where he would be loved. To protect him…"

Even Minerva couldn't find an answer to that. But Sirius had more to say.

"I'm his Godfather. James named me to take care of his child if anything were to happen to him. I escaped to prove my innocence and take custody of my Godson."

There was no doubt about the truth in this statement. Even without the Veritaserum, Remus would have believed him. He asked with a shaking voice:

"Sirius? Is this Wormtail?"

Sirius, who was avoiding to look at his old friend ever since he had unwillingly admitted being in love with him, looked up.

"Yes, it is."

"But… if he wasn't dead, then why did he hide all these years?"

"Don't you understand? I never killed these thirteen muggles, he did. I never betrayed James and Lily… He did."

"But that's not possible…" began to say Remus, but he was cut by Dumbledore.

"Sirius, who was James and Lily's Secret Keeper?"

They all kept their breaths. Then, Sirius Black said in his deepest voice:

"Wormtail."


	4. Home sweet home

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognise is J.K.Rowling's property.

**Chapter three: home sweet home**

Sirius Black was sitting in his new home, in front of the fireplace. He still couldn't believe it. Three months ago, he was still a pitiful, dirty-looking dog running after a rat somewhere in Bulgaria, and now…

Now, after two months and a half of uninterrupted trial, interrogation and custody, he was free. Free, and wealthy, because of the ten thousand Galleons the Ministry gave him along with an official apology.

He was free. Rehabilitated. He still couldn't believe it.

He had bought himself a house, a little cottage near Hogsmeade. He already had a job, the Headmaster of Hogwarts himself having proposed him the DADA teacher post for next year. Now, if only he could find Harry…

It made him sick to think of what Vernon Dursley had done to his Godson. In fact, if he could get his hands in the pig, he thought he might actually be capable of murder…

And he would do it the minute Albus Dumbledore would declare Harry dead. But for now, he would wait… the old Headmaster thought Harry was alive, and that was all he needed to allow himself to hope too. One day, Harry would join him home. And until this day, he just had to make as sweet a home as he could…

The flames briskly became green and Sirius immediately grabbed his new-acquired wand, just to relax when he saw who had arrived. He allowed himself to smile, something that seldom happened these days.

"Moony!"

"Hey Padfoot! How are you?" Remus asked his old friend, smiling too. Sirius looked much better than the last time he saw him… He shuddered at the thought. So emaciated, dirty and shaking…

But now, everything was all right. Sirius had been rehabilitated, given a lot of money from what he heard, and even if he was still entirely too thin in Remus' opinion, he didn't look like he was starving anymore. More than that, he was clean, shaved, and he had a new haircut. All in all, he didn't look like a raving maniac anymore.

He couldn't resist at the urge to hold his friend. The wolf's instincts, he knew. The full moon was just a fortnight away. He didn't care. For now, he just wanted to make sure his friend was okay, and if the wolf needed something more than just a sight's reassurance, then so be it. He needed to hold him, to realise that he wasn't dreaming and that yes, Sirius was innocent, as he always had known, deep inside, and that yes, he was here with him.

So he held his friend tight, but quickly released him when he realised that the hug wasn't shared. It hurt him, or at least until he saw the other's face. Sirius didn't look like he was disgusted to be hug by a werewolf, or embarrassed, but rather sad instead.

Remus had to fight an urge to ask him if he really had been in love with him at seventeen, but he knew that was stupid. After all, it wasn't as if Sirius could have lied, not under Veritaserum… And he was way too scared to ask if he still felt something for him.

_Okay, small talk then, _he decided.

"So, how are you doing? New home, new life, and even new job I heard? Got a place for an old friend in all that?"

"Maybe… And yeah, Dumbledore actually offered me to teach! Can you believe it? The actual owner of the detention's maximal number's record now have the power to hand them himself…"

"Yeah, that's rather strange. If anyone had told me years ago that you would become a teacher, I'd probably not have believed them…"

"That's because you thought I was a murderer, then."

"Right."

"You really _did_ think that, didn't you?"

"Unfortunately. And you'll probably never know how sorry I am for that. But Sirius, what else could I think? There were a lot of bystanders, that day, who claimed to see you kill these muggles, and P-Peter… And I thought that James would have told me if he intended to change the plan… Why didn't he? Ever since I've known you switched, I've wondered. Did he suspect me of being the spy? Did _you?_"

The hurt look on Remus' face was too much to take for Sirius. Remus was usually so collected, hiding all emotions… To hear that despair in his voice, begging him to reassure him, to tell him that of course he trusted him and always had… That he had never judge him untrustworthy just because he was a werewolf…

But Sirius had. He remembered, eight years ago, when Harry was just a toddler, when James and Lily were forced to go into hiding... How they knew there was a spy within the Marauders because too many times Death Eaters appeared at the secret location where the Potters were momentarily hiding. Sirius knew he wasn't the spy, and James was the target, so it only left Peter and Remus… Sirius trusted Remus with his life and always had, but suspecting Peter seemed so ridiculous. Still, he wasn't about to favour him above Remus, but James talked him into it. Prongs, of course, knew of his 'affection' for the werewolf, and said it affected his opinion… And finally, Sirius had let himself be convinced. Of course, when it came to Remus, he was blind. So James and Peter had to be right, Remus had to be the spy. He was a werewolf, after all. A beast. Untrustworthy…

How could he admit that to Remus, though? And what good would it do? None. He realised it didn't matter what really happened years ago. What mattered was that there was only thing that wouldn't hurt Moony. After all, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him…

So he finally answered:

"Of course neither James nor I ever suspected you were a spy, Moony! But remember what it was like… We just couldn't risk it. I'm not saying we didn't trust you, 'cos we did, but what was the point of putting you into danger by giving you too much information? We never thought Peter would betray James and Lily to Voldemort! Now, if there had just been James and I, we would have told you, but we let Peter talk us out of it. In fact, the only mistake we ever made was to trust this rat."

Sirius felt a little bad to lie to his friend, but they would never manage to be friends again if Remus knew he had doubted him. Just like Sirius needed to know if Remus had really believed him capable of betraying James…

"But what about you? I can't believe you never once came to see me in Azkaban. If only you had, I could have told you the truth, if you had listened to me… you could have told someone that Peter was an Animagus, maybe even looked for him… Proved my innocence…"

"And who would have listened to a werewolf? Especially one that was a close friend of you?"

"Okay, maybe nobody would have listened. But _you_ would have known. Moony, don't you understand? It doesn't matter to me if the whole bloody world believes I'm guilty, as long as _you _know I'm not!"

_Oops. I said too much. Now he'll ask about what I admitted under Veritaserum the other day, since I've just proven more or less that I still feels the same. Bravo, Sirius. Time to change the subject. _

"Well, I don't know what you were thinking, but okay, you didn't know half the facts, and that's partly my fault, so I guess you're even…"

"Look Padfoot, if I had thought about it long enough, I'd probably concluded that it couldn't be _you_, but the truth is, I just wanted to forget… To my point of view, I had just lost three friends because of the betrayal of another, and I just wanted to forget it all… But really, deep inside I never really-"

"Is this the moment when you swear you never thought it was me? Because if it is, I'd prefer you left right now."

He knew he was being a bloody hypocrite right now, but he didn't care. Sure, he _had _believed Remus was the spy, and told Moony otherwise not five minutes ago, but he couldn't bear to hear the same from him. Plus, he was embarrassed about what he had said earlier, and right now he just wanted to be alone. Unfortunately, Remus wasn't ready to leave.

"Oh no, you won't get rid of me so easily. Look, I made a giant mistake in thinking you were guilty, I should have known you would never ever betray James… But it's too late, now. Do you want to spend the rest of your life alone because you can't find it in yourself to forgive me? If you do, fine, I'll leave right now. But really, I've spent almost eight years mourning for my three best friends and I think we lost enough time, don't you?"

Saying that, Remus gripped Sirius' shoulders, eyes locked in his eyes, begging him to understand, to accept…

_We lost enough time…_ Yes, that was also Sirius' thoughts. Since he had met the werewolf he had been fascinated by him, and in his fifth year he had understood that he loved him. Of course he had tried to deny it by going out with half the female population of Hogwarts, but finally he had accepted it. He had never told him, never, and as he rotted in Azkaban that was one of the many regrets he had had. If anything, Azkaban had taught him that life was too short to throw away the chance of being happy momentarily. He had never tried to tell Remus how he felt, by fear of being rejected.

But now Remus knew, didn't he? He had heard him admit it under Veritaserum, and he didn't seem to be disgusted by him. On the contrary, he had hugged him earlier… you didn't hug the people you knew loved you, did you? Except if you loved them too…

He had to know or he would regret it. That was the moment… Remus was so close, his hands on his shoulders, his eyes onto his, his breath caressing his face…

Slowly, Sirius raised one of his hands to Remus' cheek, lightly caressing the soft skin, and smiled, murmuring:

"Yes, we lost enough time."

When Remus smiled too, he approached his face to his and lightly kissed his friend's willing lips…


	5. Found?

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and the other characters are the property of J.K.Rowling.

**Chapter four: found?**

Minerva McGonagall was disbelievingly staring at the first year's name list for the next term. She had to magically transfer each name on an envelope destined to each magical child about to attend Hogwarts, then the address of their current location would write itself…

But there was one name she hadn't been prepared to see on that list. _Harry Potter_…

So Albus was right, after all. Lily and James' boy wasn't dead. After all these years, everyone but the old Headmaster, and maybe Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, had finally accepted the fact that their saviour had been killed by his abusive uncle. Albus always refused to believe it, claiming that the prophecy made it clear that he couldn't be killed by anyone but You-Know-Who, but to Minerva it sounded like wishful thinking…

But here it was, the proof that the boy was still around, somewhere. But where? Hastily, she transferred his name on one envelope, but instead of revealing his location, it merely said:

_Harry Potter_

_Unknown location_

Years ago, they had tried all the tracking charms they could think of, and nothing had worked, which had comforted the hypothesis of his death. Now it seemed that the tracking charms were blocked, even the most powerful ones of the magical envelopes, but that the boy was still alive. Nevertheless, she had to go announce what she had found out about Potter to Albus! He had to know he had been right all along…

Han was travelling once again. It was summer vacation, and therefore he had to find other means to get food. Namely, stealing. He couldn't do it in the town he thought of as 'home' because he would be soon discovered… When he had no choice but to steal to eat, he had to move a lot.

The last years, he had managed pretty well. He was doing homework for three other kids besides Kathleen, in exchange for food and money. Not much, of course, so that the parents didn't notice, but enough to buy clothes once in a while…

Kathleen was still teaching him everything she learned, and she let him borrow her school books, so he was actually becoming quite good with school stuff. He knew how to read, write and count, among other things.

But for summer holidays, there wasn't any homework to do, so he had to find another way to get food. He rather liked it, though. He liked to travel. He still didn't like to steal much, but he didn't mind it anymore. It was just the way things were. Why should those people have that much money and he none? It wasn't fair. Just like it wasn't fair that all these other children had a family while he didn't.

He shook his head to clear it. He knew it was bad to think about that. He didn't want a family after all. He was perfectly fine on his own. He had friends, a place to live (his little cave beside the sea was very nice, when it wasn't too cold), and freedom. What else could he want?

He vaguely remembered his "family". His uncle, beating him half to death before collapsing. His aunt, abandoning him to his uncle's wrath. His cousin, chasing after him with his friends, or making fun of him…

He was much better all alone.

Albus Dumbledore sat on his office, thinking. And just like it always had for the past five years, his reflections centred on Harry Potter. Where was he? How was he surviving? Did he find a family to adopt him, or was he still alone? He liked to picture him surrounded by loving people, adoptive parents kind and caring, brothers and sisters, a nice little home where he could finally have the childhood he deserved…

But he couldn't even manage to fool himself. He knew, deep inside, that Harry wasn't as careless as any kid his age. The tracking charm proved it. For Albus, the only likely explanation of what could block it was Harry himself. He didn't want to be found, by anyone. Accidental magic, at an early age, that had erased, or at least inhibited, his magical signature, therefore preventing any tracking charms to locate him.

Looking at the envelope Minerva had given him, he smiled. Maybe there was a way…

Adding another piece of parchment into it, he added a "readme" charm, which would ensure that Harry read his letter entirely, then folded it and gave it to his Phoenix, then he murmured "_May you find Harry Potter, Fawkes, and may he forgive me for my past mistakes…"_

Harry stared blankly at the letter the odd bird had given him. That was possibly the strangest thing he had ever experienced. A magnificent animal, bringing him a letter, was already bizarre.

And the fact that it was a bird bringing it wasn't the weirdest, for he couldn't remember having ever received any letter in his entire life. For all he knew, normal people received mail by bird too.

No, the strangest thing, what bothered him most, was the name it was addressed to. It was a name he had never seen written, or at least not since he knew how to read and write. But now that he knew how to read it, it brought back many unpleasant memories…

_"Harry! Hurry up and make our breakfast!"_

_"Potter! Come here! I'll teach you not to answer me!"_

_"Harry James Potter! Get up you lazy good-for-nothing freak!"_

So, really, he wasn't that anxious to read a letter addressed by his former name, when the only ones who knew it were his uncaring relatives from which he thought he was free. And what kind of an address was _"unknown location"_ anyway? How had the bird found him?

Somehow, though, he didn't believe that the beautiful bird could belong to his relatives. It seemed much too strange for these folks who despised abnormality above everything.

Who could it be from, then? Well, he wouldn't know unless he opened it, would he? So he carefully did. Inside were three pieces of old-looking paper.

_"Dear Mr Potter,_ the first paper said,

_I hope this letter finds you in a good health. As you turned eleven last month, I am pleased to tell you that you are expected at Hogwarts on the first of September to begin your magical studies. _

_This may come as a shock, but then again, maybe not. You are a wizard, Harry. Your parents were ones too, though I doubt your aunt and uncle ever told you that. Didn't you ever made strange things happen around you? That's perfectly normal for a magical child to do accidental magic before learning to control it. _

_You will also have to purchase school things before the beginning of the school (I joined you a list of everything you need). I do not know whether you live with a magical family, in which case they will know where to go, but if you don't, then ask your guardians to accompany you to London. There, you will have to find a bar called the Leaking Cauldron (which is nearly impossible to see for Muggles but you will be able to notice it). Once there you can ask Tom to open the way to Diagon Alley. _

_I give you back your Gringott's key which I was saving for you all these years. Gringott's is the Wizard's bank, and you have your own vault that should be more than enough to buy everything you need until the end of your school years. _

_If you need any help, I would be more than happy to meet with you and explain everything thoroughly. You just have to write an answer and give it to Fawkes (the Phoenix who brought you this letter). If you don't, then I'll see you on September 1st at Hogwarts…_

_Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts_

_PS: I almost forgot! To go to Hogwarts, you have to take the Hogwarts' Express. It will leave the King's Cross station of London at eleven on the September 1st. _

Han shook his head in disbelief. This man was completely off his rockers! He, a wizard? Well, of course, weird things had happened to him for as far as he could remember, like that time when he had been so cold in his "home" by the sea and a warm blanket appeared out of nowhere, or when he had found that beautiful snake and could actually _understand_ everything it said and even talk back…

Dozens of examples jumped into his mind, things that he couldn't explain, things that none of his friends had ever done… And then another memory, one he had tried so much to forget but couldn't. A blond boy complaining about not having a computer and then squeaking in delight when one magically appeared from nowhere… Was this boy a wizard too? The thought seemed ridiculous to Han. But then again…

According to Mr Dumbledore, his parents had been wizards too. So maybe that was genetic? If that was, it was somehow normal that his cousin was magical too, wasn't it? Would he receive a letter too? And how would his parents react? If he remembered correctly, they never really liked his abnormality…

Han shuddered. No. He wouldn't allow himself to think about his relatives. He was free of them, now. He wouldn't ever have to return to them, ever.

But what if he did answer to that Headmaster, wouldn't he try to put him with them again? He wasn't a fool, he knew that boys weren't supposed to live by themselves in the streets…

On the other hand, he really, really wanted to know if he was really a wizard, and if he was, he wanted to see Hogwards. The place where his parents had apparently been… maybe that was where they had met! He knew next to nothing about them, he had even forgotten their names long ago… just as he had almost forgotten his.

He would go, he decided suddenly. He had nowhere to go anyway, so a little trip to London sounded okay… and that way he would know if that man was serious or if he had lost his mind.

"Do you think Fawkes will be able to find him, Albus?"

"I hope so. It's almost certain, in fact. He wouldn't have accepted the letter if he wasn't sure he could join him. I'm glad he accepted, though it surprises me, as he refused many times in the past."

"You asked him to find Harry when he was first missing?"

"Yes."

"And he refused?"

"Yes."

"I'm going to kill that damned bird."

"Now, now, Sirius. I'm sure you don't want to do harm to the only link we actually have with Harry, do you?"

"I guess not. But I still don't approve. And why did you have to explain how to go into Diagon Alley? Do you really think he's got muggle guardians who will accompany him there?"

"No. I'm actually pretty much convinced that he's alone, as much as I don't like it."

"Why do you think that? Maybe he's been adopted!" The idea made Sirius ambivalent. In one hand, he would be glad that someone took care of his Harry. In the other hand, he wanted Harry to live with him as soon as he was found. After all, that was why he had escaped from Azkaban…

"…the tracking charms."

"Sorry, Albus, could you repeat that please?"

"Of course. I was just saying that the only possible reason the tracking charms aren't working on him is that he's blocking them unintentionally by his unwillingness to be found. I don't think he would want so much to remain hidden if he had been adopted, or if someone was taking care of him."

"But Albus, if you think he's alone, why didn't you just send him a Portkey to bring him here? Why let him make his own way to Hogwarts? He's only eleven year old, for Merlin's sake!"

"I'm trying to gain his trust, not to alienate him for the next century. I don't think he would have reacted well to being transported here while he may very well ignore that he's a wizard. He doesn't know us, Sirius! He doesn't _trust_ us and has no reason to… It was my fault in the first place if he was placed with his relatives. We have to be careful. We do not know him. Besides, he's probably on his own since he's six. He knows how to take care of himself."

"I still don't like it. But I suppose I can't change your mind… very well. But if he's not here on September 1st, I'll quit my job to look for him."

"He will be there, Sirius. Trust me… But don't worry, we have other ways to keep track of him. I have owled the Goblins, they will tell me the moment he asks to go into his vault. This way we'll be able to see him soon, and bring him back for the rest of the holidays."

The first thought that entered Harry's mind was that London was way too big. How would he manage to find the Leaky Cauldron, a place non-magical people couldn't even see according to Dumbledore (so he couldn't even ask which way it was to an adult).

Well, he had time. He could stay in London for a while. It was as good a place as any to live in the summer. There were many people and shops to steal to. No matter what Mr Dumbledore pretended, he wasn't about to go into a bank and announce out loud that he was Harry Potter. Not when he had spent so many years hiding that very fact. He had always managed to survive alone, without any help, and this time would be no different, he vowed. If Hogwarts really did exist, then he would need a lot of money, indeed. He had no idea how much the supplies cost, so he decided to steal as much as he could.

Looking around, he smiled. He had just found the perfect target…

A week later, he figured he had enough. He had walked through most of the city, stole from many people, mostly old women, and had found the Leaky Cauldron two days ago. Now that he had almost more money than he could carry, he figured he should try to go in…

So he did. Inside was unlike anything he had ever seen.

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	6. shopping

**Disclaimer:** Everything you recognise is J.K.Rowling's property. I do not own Harry Potter and am not making any money out of this.

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**Chapter five: shopping **

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He had never been to a pub before, being way too young, but on occasions he had glanced through the front window of the one in his street, and as far as he could tell, it had nothing in common with this one.

It was quite small, and it looked old and about to collapse. There wasn't a lot of people inside, probably due to the early hour, but the ones who were there seemed to have just gotten out of a history book. They wore weird clothes, colourful long robes, even the men, and many even had pointed hats. Behind the bar, a strange bald man waved a stick, and the chairs immediately rearranged themselves. Alone. He didn't touch them, carried them, or pushed them. Magic. It was true, then. Dumbledore wasn't a crazy man, he was telling the truth. Which meant that Han really was a wizard…

Somehow, that wasn't a revelation for him. He felt as if he had always knew, deep inside. All those years ago, when his so-called family told him he was a freak on a daily basis, he knew it was because he was different. Because he could do things the others, 'normal people', couldn't, his relatives were afraid of him.

He shook his head. He was thinking about them way too often these days. Usually he avoided it like the plague. Why couldn't he just forget them? He had heard that people usually didn't remember their early childhood. Would he be able to forget he had ever been with them one day? Would he be able to erase the memory of the day his uncle beat him almost to death? He sure hoped so.

Thankfully the bald man noticed him and approached, saying in a friendly voice:

"Hi kiddo! I'm Tom. What's your name?"

"Han. Could you please show me the way to Diagon Alley?"

"Sure! This way."

Han followed him into a little court outside the bar, surrounded by walls, where there were only a few trashes and some weeds. The boy was beginning to think it was all a trap, or a bad joke, when the man got his wand out and tapped one of the walls three times.

Han blinked, checking that he wasn't dreaming. Where seconds before there had been a wall, there was now a street, which he guessed was Diagon Alley. Shaking his head under Tom's amused gaze, he thanked him and entered the Alley, looking around in stupefaction. The street was full of people wearing hats and colourful robes, just like inside the bar.

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He had much things to do, though, so he quit staring and headed to the nearest store.

…………………………………………………………………………………

Three hours and a half later, he had already decided that the shrinking charm was his favourite. That was his weirdest day ever. He had gone to a bank held by Goblins, changed normal money for pieces of gold, and bronze and silver, and spent it all in things like books (in which the pictures were moving!), cauldron, robes, parchment and quills. Now, the only thing left on the list was a wand.

_Ollivander. _That was to be his next stop. He pushed the door open and waited for the owner to finish with the other customer, a boy around his age. Strangely, he was alone, just like him. It was strange because all day long he had seen mothers and fathers fussing about their sons and daughters, paying for them, buying them sweets atop of all else…

But this boy was alone, and Han felt empathy for him. Maybe he didn't have anyone who cared about him either?

Then he turned, and empathy turned to horror. Han didn't know this face, but Harry did. Right before him stood Dudley Dursley, tall and healthy blond boy of eleven, with pure horror on his face, for he had recognised his cousin too.

"H-harry? He asked, his voice trembling."

"Hi Dudley", Harry said without thinking, as incoherent thoughts ran through his shocked mind.

Dudley was there. They were going to go to the same school. Dudley would tell everyone not to befriend Harry. Dudley and his friends would make his life miserable.

But then he thought again. He's all alone. Maybe his mum abandoned him too. After all she never could stand magic. He's lost a lot of weight. Maybe he didn't have anything to eat on the streets.

Another part of him just didn't care. His cousin didn't mean anything to him after all this time. It was just another customer. His voice grew cold, as did his eyes, when he asked:

"Are you finished, then? I have to buy myself a wand."

His cousin seemed a little lost for a second, but then he grabbed his new acquired wand and left the store without a word.

Then he didn't have any time to think about it, because the old wizard turned to him.

"Well, well, well. What is it we have here? Harry Potter himself! Yes, Albus told me you were coming. I must say you look stunningly good, for someone who just spent five years who-know-where."

……………………………………………….

An hour later, Han could at least get out of the shop. He had tried nearly every wand in store (or at least it seemed this way to him) before finally finding the right one, which he quickly hid under his clothes. Even if he didn't know any spell yet, it could come in handy.

He had everything he needed to go to school, and the train left the next morning. His things would apparently go back to their normal size as soon as they were in his room at Hogwarts, which was very handy but came with a disadvantage: he couldn't read any book before going to school.

He was excited. He was finally going to school, the thing he had wanted more than anything since he left his aunt's house. He was still a little shaken up after the encounter with Dudley, but he told himself it didn't matter. He was going to school!

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